The Duchess of Malfi

[Exit Servant.]

No, I 'll go curse.
BOSOLA.              O, fie!
DUCHESS.                      I could curse the stars.
BOSOLA.                                                 O, fearful!
DUCHESS.  And those three smiling seasons of the year
Into a Russian winter; nay, the world
To its first chaos.
BOSOLA.              Look you, the stars shine still[.]
DUCHESS.  O, but you must
Remember, my curse hath a great way to go. —
Plagues, that make lanes through largest families,
Consume them! —
BOSOLA.          Fie, lady!
DUCHESS.                     Let them, like tyrants,
Never be remembered but for the ill they have done;
Let all the zealous prayers of mortified
Churchmen forget them! —
BOSOLA.                   O, uncharitable!
DUCHESS.  Let heaven a little while cease crowning martyrs,
To punish them! —
Go, howl them this, and say, I long to bleed:
It is some mercy when men kill with speed.

Exit.

[Re-enter FERDINAND]

FERDINAND.  Excellent, as I would wish; she 's plagu'd in art.[101 - By artificial means.]  These presentations are but fram'd in wax
By the curious master in that quality,[102 - Profession.]  Vincentio Lauriola, and she takes them
For true substantial bodies.
BOSOLA.                       Why do you do this?
FERDINAND.  To bring her to despair.
BOSOLA.                               Faith, end here,
And go no farther in your cruelty:
Send her a penitential garment to put on
Next to her delicate skin, and furnish her
With beads and prayer-books.
FERDINAND.                    Damn her! that body of hers.
While that my blood run pure in 't, was more worth
Than that which thou wouldst comfort, call'd a soul.
I will send her masques of common courtezans,
Have her meat serv'd up by bawds and ruffians,
And, 'cause she 'll needs be mad, I am resolv'd
To move forth the common hospital
All the mad-folk, and place them near her lodging;
There let them practise together, sing and dance,
And act their gambols to the full o' th' moon:
If she can sleep the better for it, let her.
Your work is almost ended.
BOSOLA.                     Must I see her again?
FERDINAND.  Yes.
BOSOLA.           Never.
FERDINAND.                You must.
BOSOLA.                              Never in mine own shape;
That 's forfeited by my intelligence[103 - Spying.]
And this last cruel lie:  when you send me next,
The business shall be comfort.
FERDINAND.                      Very likely;
Thy pity is nothing of kin to thee, Antonio
Lurks about Milan:  thou shalt shortly thither,
To feed a fire as great as my revenge,
Which nev'r will slack till it hath spent his fuel:
Intemperate agues make physicians cruel.

Exeunt.

Scene II[104 - Another room in the lodging of the Duchess.]

[Enter] DUCHESS and CARIOLA

DUCHESS.  What hideous noise was that?
CARIOLA.                                'Tis the wild consort[105 - Band.]
Of madmen, lady, which your tyrant brother
Hath plac'd about your lodging.  This tyranny,
I think, was never practis'd till this hour.
DUCHESS.  Indeed, I thank him.
Nothing but noise and folly
Can keep me in my right wits; whereas reason
And silence make me stark mad.  Sit down;
Discourse to me some dismal tragedy.
CARIOLA.  O, 'twill increase your melancholy!
DUCHESS.                                       Thou art deceiv'd:
To hear of greater grief would lessen mine.
This is a prison?
CARIOLA.           Yes, but you shall live
To shake this durance off.
DUCHESS.                    Thou art a fool:
The robin-red-breast and the nightingale
Never live long in cages.
CARIOLA.                   Pray, dry your eyes.
What think you of, madam?
DUCHESS.                   Of nothing;
When I muse thus, I sleep.
CARIOLA.  Like a madman, with your eyes open?
DUCHESS.  Dost thou think we shall know one another
In th' other world?
CARIOLA.             Yes, out of question.